If I Needed Someone
by TheLovelyMissLizzy
Summary: "How he feels?" Emily scoffed, dropping her cigarette on the floor. "John Lennon is incapable of feeling anything."


**A/N: Hey there! It's me again…I haven't been on for what feels like AGES, and I do apologize to those of you who had been reading my other fics! Hopefully I can get them updated as soon as possible, yeah? :D Well, if you're reading this, thanks for not forgetting about me entirely. Hehe… Love always, Read and Review! **

**~TheLovelyMissLizzy**

**1962 Liverpool**

Emily rolled her eyes, taking a drag from her cigarette. "They really can't be compared, now can they, Ren?"

"I'm only saying, Buddy Holly is much more experimental than Elvis…and would you stop with that thing already? You know very well it's disgusting."

"Everyone smokes. It's the 60's."

Renee pretended to cough. "Correction, _Men smoke._"

"Maybe I'm just 'experimental', like Buddy Holly." Emily smiled.

Renee glared from over top of one of the records she had been cleaning. "So, are you coming tonight, or not? I'm perfectly capable of going alone."

"And endure more insults from Lennon? It's tempting, Ren, really, but I think I'll stay and apartment sit while you go out."

"Emily…" Renee pleaded. "Don't be like that. You know that's only John's attempt at telling you how he feels…"

"How he feels!" Emily scoffed, dropping her cigarette on the floor. "John Lennon is _incapable_ of feeling anything."

"Fine, then don't come!" Renee pouted, swatting at her friend's cigarette with an old album cover. "…but I've already told Richie you would."

"What'd you go and do that for! Poor kid, 'aven't seen him in ages…" She said, nodding her head.

"George and Paul are expecting you there too…"

"Speaking of Paul," She sat cross-legged on their ragged sofa. "How are things between you two?"

Renee suddenly became extremely interested in cleaning her records. "What do you mean?"

Emily narrowed her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. "Are you two an item? Do you…fancy each other?"

Renee smiled, shaking her head. "I'm much too young for him, Emm. He needs someone older, like you."

Emily frowned as she watched her friend clean a record with a little more pressure than necessary. "You're 17, not 7, love."

"I might as well be." Her voice cracked. "He's 20."

"Three years isn't much. Besides, you make me sound so old…" she cringed.

Renee smiled, standing up. "19 is old."

"Hardly…" She began.

Renee cut in. "Emm, no matter what age, you're much too young and beautiful to be bitter. You _have_ to come to the club tonight. When do I ever ask things of you?"

Emily contemplated it as she twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "Fine."

"Ha! This is great! The boys will be so excited to hear…" She chirped, walking towards the phone hanging on the kitchenette wall.

"Wait!" Emily screeched, nearly tackling her to the ground.

"Ouch! What?"

"If I go…"

"If?"

"Let me finish! If I go…it'll be on my own terms. Which means, we're not going to _tell_ the boys I'm coming. We're going to _show _them."

"Show them..?" Renee narrowed her eyes, pushing Emily off of her. "What do you mean?"

"We're going shopping." She smiled.

Renee smirked. "You hate shopping…"

"And you don't?"

"That's not the point."

Emily smiled. "I hate shopping, but I don't hate looking good."

"You don't need to go shopping to look good. You get hit on every time we leave the house…" Renee stated with a smirk.

Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "Coming from you, that means nothing, dear. You've had one of the most eligible bachelors of Liverpool groveling over you for years…"

"Groveling? That's harsh…" She frowned.

"I don't see why you won't give him chance." She started, uninterestedly. "…Much less cocky than Paul. I mean, sure, he's quiet and all…"

"He's not quiet at all!" Renee declared, defensively. "He's rather talkative once you get to know him. You just haven't bothered."

"Makes no difference. He's fancied you since we were kids…"

"Weren't you just telling me to go after Paul? Now you want me to go for George?" She said angrily.

"Calm down, Ren." Emily yawned. "I'm only saying you could have your pick of guys round here. Go after both for all I care! I'm just saying George would be a heck of a lot less maintenance."

Renee frowned, tucking a piece of shoulder-length black hair behind her ear. "I'd never do that to him. George that is…" She trailed off. "Pretending to fancy him would hurt him more than not fancying him at all." Renee paused for a moment before asking, "What ever happened to Mick?"

Emily scowled, biting her nails. "He broke it off a while back." She shrugged.

"Emm," Renee began, sympathetically. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Emily Laughed. "You're the one who likes to talk about their feelings, Ren."

"It's not so bad, you know." She pressed. "I don't understand…you really liked him."

"It's not a big deal, okay? He and his band are making it big in London, I guess. He didn't want to deal with the _'distance'_."

"I'm so sorry, Emm…"

"Don't be." Emily said, expressionless. "Since you already brought him up…that makes three."

"Three what?"

"Three guys who'd _kill_ for your attention." She said as if it were as clear as day. "His buddy, the guitarist? Keith something?"

"He did not." Renee smiled, a light blush creeping onto her pale cheeks.

Emily rolled her eyes. "You're much too modest. You're gorgeous, Ren."

"I'm not even going to try and argue with you." She huffed. "You're much too stubborn. Now, give me a hand, will you? These things are a lot heavier than they look."

"You're really selling them then?" Emily frowned, getting up to help. "These things mean everything to you."

Renee looked down at them thoughtfully and then quickly closed the lid to the box. "We need the money."

"I told you to let me worry about that. You don't need to go off selling things." She ranted. "It makes us look pathetic."

Renee flopped down onto the couch with a sigh. "We are pathetic."

"Maybe so," Emily dropped the box with a thud. "but there's no way you'll get to New York by selling records."

Renee giggled. "No, but you might be able to…" she glanced pointedly towards an acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of their apartment.

"No, no." She walked towards it, touching the strings delicately with her fingers. She paused, as if unsure of what she was about to say. "If anything, _this_ is what we should sell."

"Are you mad!" Renee hissed, walking towards her. "It's your _dream._"

"Was…it _was_ my dream. My _new_ dream is to see you make it out of this place." She scowled, gesturing all around her.

"Quit acting like a big sister and think about yourself for once, yeah?"

"Maybe if you'd stop acting like a _child_, I wouldn't have to worry so much!" Defended Emily.

"A child?" Renee scoffed. "Wasn't it just you who told me how much of an adult I had become? In fact, I tend to think I'm _much _more mature than you!"

Emily lowered her voice, focusing her stare solely on Renee. "I'm older. It's my _job_ to look after you."

"I can take care of myself."

Emily paused, breathing in deeply. They both looked at each other apologetically. "I won't sell _that,"_ She said, pointing towards her guitar, "if you don't sell _those."_ She tapped the box with her foot.

Renee looked down, shaking her head. "It's for the best."

Emily grabbed her by the wrist, her blue eyes piercing Renee's green ones. "No, it's really not. Can we argue about this later?"

"You're excited, aren't you? This is a first…_you_ excited to go _shopping_." She laughed, throwing her dark hair over her shoulders.

"I'll take that as a yes." Emily rolled her eyes. She had only one thought dancing through her mind.

_John Lennon won't know what hit him. _

**A/N: Tell me what you think, huh? Reviews make me very happy people…very very happy. If you'd like me to check out one of your fics…TELL ME. 'Cause I'd love to.**

**~TheLovelyMissLizzy**


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